


Like the Healing Amidst the Pain: Bonus One-Shot

by serendipitysnape



Series: In the Stillness of Memory [4]
Category: The Great Library Series - Rachel Caine
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Memories, Waking Dreams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-09
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:13:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26918659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serendipitysnape/pseuds/serendipitysnape
Summary: In which Nic wakes up in the middle of the night and finds himself pondering how he and Christopher ended up adopting six library postulants, when the truth is, Nic doesn't like children all that much.
Relationships: Niccolo Santi & Thomas Schreiber, Niccolo Santi/Christopher Wolfe
Series: In the Stillness of Memory [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517735
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Like the Healing Amidst the Pain: Bonus One-Shot

**Author's Note:**

> This one-shot can be read as a stand alone, but chronologically it takes place after "Like the Healing Amidst the Pain," which is Thomas's story, and before "Like the Truth Beneath a Lie," which is Dario's story.

Niccolo Santi wasn’t a big fan of kids. Sure, when push comes to shove he could fake it well enough, but despite his mother’s pleas, his grandmother’s guilt and his brother’s mockery, Nic just couldn’t bring himself to like the little bastards. Yes, he and Vittorio had grown up with a wild passel of screaming, brawling cousins, and over the years he may have wondered what it would be like to have a large, rowdy clan of his very own. But when life and love had led him to fall for Christopher Wolfe, Nic had known that his chance for children grew less likely with every additional threat from the Library. And besides, Nic didn’t like kids all that much anyway.  
  
At the beginning of their relationship, Chris had asked Nic if he wanted a family. At the time, Nic hadn’t wanted to share Christopher, and certainly not with a needy, attention seeking, infant who could do nothing but cry all the time and expected Nic to help feed it, clothe it, and clean it. But as time had gone on, a part of Nic, albeit a very small part, had wondered what it would be like to be a father.  
  
Christopher wanted offspring. This was the revelation that Nic came to one night as he recovered from a very pleasurable experiment with Chris who had been motivated to try something new and scandalous that he had uncovered in an old manuscript. Of course it had ended up involving some creativity with a fruit basket and a bit of fancy tongue acrobatics, but Nic couldn’t have cared less. Christopher’s joy and arousal had been infectious, and Nic had been basking in what eventually proved to be only the first in a series of happy endings when it happened.  
  
“Ithinkweshouldtryandadoptachild.Whatdoyouthing?” The words slurred together into one giant sentence, and Santi would be the first to admit that post-coital-Niccolo was having trouble focusing on anything besides the fact that Christopher was naked and happy beside him. But his lover was nothing if not persistent.  
  
“Nic,” Chris poked him in the side. “Are you listening to me?”  
  
Nic gave a muffled affirmative. He did recognize that words were being generated. He couldn’t have repeated them back though if questioned under oath.  
  
“Children.”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Nic, let’s have one.”  
  
“Mmmmmhmmmm.” In hindsight, Nic was really not in a position to deny Chris much of anything at this point. His bones felt like jelly, his limbs, too languid to lift, and Chris had really outdone himself on ensuring that Santi was well and truly fucked before he asked him for what he wanted. He was rather perceptive that way.  
  
“Niccolo.” Chris let out one of those deep belly laughs as he rolled himself onto Nic’s chest until all Nic could see, could smell, could feel, was Christopher.  
  
Nic smiled. Remembering the way he had twined their legs together and rolled both of them over in a flip that would have made Glain jealous and Zara proud. Chris stretched like a cat beneath him and Nic grinned wider, looking down at the man who he would give anything, everything for. He’d thought they were done for the night, but apparently his body had other ideas. Nic would never have enough of Christopher. Even if he took him every night until the day they died, it wouldn’t be enough.  
  
“Nic.”  
  
_“Ciao, Bello! Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno.”_ Yes, Nic decided. He would never grow tired of looking at his handsome love. Even now. Even after Rome. Nic still looked at Chris. He looked at him and thanked God that somehow, only by God’s own grace, he had chosen to keep Christopher alive. He had saved him, and in doing so, saved them both.  
  
Chris didn’t laugh like that anymore, deep and carefree. And he certainly wasn’t interested in experimenting with baskets of fruit. But Nic didn’t care. The rest of the memory wasn’t a haze at all, but clear as day. The way Chris had arched up against him and claimed a kiss. The way Christopher’s eyes had been so bright, overflowing with joy and excitement for the future, filled with light, and love, for Nic, for the life they would share together.  
  
“Do you trust me?”  
  
“With all that I am.” What other response could Nic have given. Of course he trusted Chris. He would follow him into the gates of hell, and beyond. And he had.  
  
“Nic, Let’s start a family.”  
  
Nic smirked, laughing as he ground his hips in a circle. “You realize, my love, that we don’t exactly have the right parts for that?” Chris stilled beneath him and his eyes shuttered for a moment. Oh. Chris hadn’t been joking. Chris had been serious, and Nic had hurt him! A family. Christopher was truly asking Nic to consider having children, starting a normal life together? Or whatever passed for normal these days now that they were no longer postulants and Chris was on the fast track to being Archivist one day. Nic rolled off of him with a soft exhale and ignored his swiftly deflating libido. As he stared up at the ceiling his hand automatically grasped Christopher’s, and his partner said nothing as Nic held on to him and imagined what their life could be like with a gaggle of children underfoot.  
  
The truth was, Niccolò Santi may not like children all that much, but he loved Christopher Wolfe more than life itself.  
  
“My love,” he said, trying to ignore the sudden tears that seem to have filled his eyes. “You will be such an amazing father.”  
  
There was a muffled yelp from the other side of the bed, but that was the only warning he had before Nic’s arms were full of Christopher. And despite all of the fun from earlier in the evening, this time, when they came together, Nic felt like it was love itself that he was driving into Christopher’s body. Like their love was so great, no vessel could hold it in. This is what heaven must feel like, for surely this was the very best that life had to offer.  
  
_“Cent’anni!”_ Nic whispered the traditional toast into Christopher’s neck as he gave his best effort to drink him in. “One hundred years, my love. _Cent’anni!_ I promise to love you for one hundred years, and beyond.”   
  
Present day Nic was overwhelmed by the memory.  
  
It had come on him suddenly, waking him in the early morning hours just before dawn. On the opposite side of the bed, present day Christopher was still sleeping. They were the same, and yet they were entirely different. The playful, carefree, and often careless postulants that they had been when they met so many years ago had been swallowed by the wolf. Fear. Constant, unyielding and as treacherous as a snake had settled itself into the marrow of their very bones until their foundations had become brittle, so fragile a single breath might bow them over.  
  
But they were still alive. Still standing. And the promise that Nic had made that night, and every night after, he still meant every word.  
  
After that night, Nic had begun dreaming about the family that he and Chris might have. He hadn’t let himself think about it before, assuming that God had other plans for him, and surely those plans didn’t involve children. But Chris had planted the seed, and now all Nic could think about was if their future child would enjoy quoting Shakespeare or prefer wielding a longsword.  
  
Then Christopher had been taken.  
  
At the beginning, Nic had lost himself to the grief. He had buried the seeds of hope so deep inside of him that he had forgotten it. His sole focus had been finding Christopher, and keeping him safe as he had obviously failed so spectacularly before. And when he finally did get him back, Rome had broken the other half of his heart. Evil had scooped out all of the special things that made Chris who he was, and destroyed it. Hate had sucked out the light from Christopher’s eyes and left a delicate, friable shell behind. Neither Chris nor Nic would ever be the same again.  
  
It wasn’t just the multiple locks that Nic had installed on their door, for Christopher, he had told himself. Or the numerous perimeter checks he made each night, also for Christopher. It wasn’t even the mint tea that both of them had come to rely on in times of stress. No, it wasn’t any of these things. It was the feeling that together, the pair of them had lost something irreplaceable. The feeling, that with Christopher’s mental health so tenuous, even after years of healing, and Nic’s own psyche not much better if he were being entirely honest, the chance for the two of them to have a family together had passed. But it was okay though, Nic didn’t like children too much anyway.  
  
So Nic had told Chris that the two of them were all the family they needed. By this point neither of them had wanted to risk bringing a child into this world, especially not when the risk was too high for either of them to bear, not after Rome. But then Chris had been forced into a new position, one that made it impossible for Nic to keep an eye on him. And somehow, the stubborn man had decided to adopt a misfit group of intolerable, needy, exasperating children, with absolutely no sense of self-preservation, and he had done it all while Nic wasn’t looking.

“They are postulants, Christopher.” Nic could still remember the shade of red that his face had turned when he had come to the realization that the two of them were now stuck with the pack of miscreants. “Postulants! Not lost little puppies looking for a home.” Having been together long enough to know his moods, Wolfe had wisely said nothing in response, and merely grimaced, saving his slightly sour expression for when Nic was done. “What now?” Nic sighed. He knew that look, and it certainly didn’t help to lower his blood pressure any.

“You haven’t seen the Brightwell boy yet, have you.”

“No.”

“Niccolo!”

“Okay, is he the pompous looking fancy pants with the boots that cost more than my entire Garda stipend?”

“Nic.”

“Fine. He’s the one that looks like he’s got a secret. If he were a stray dog I’d say he’d be as likely to bite your hand as to steal the food you left out for him.”

“Nic, you’ve seen him, Brightwell is a walking disaster! I couldn’t just abandon them to the library.” 

“No,” Nic replied softly, thinking of all the times he had prayed for someone to intervene on Christopher’s behalf. “I suppose you couldn’t. But Chris, did you really have to go and adopt all of them?”

Christopher Wolfe grinned back at him. “Didn’t I though?” 

It had been such an un-Christopher-like response that Nic had gaped at him a moment before bursting into laughter. A moment later both of them found themselves rolling on the floor laughing like they had when the two of them had still been postulants. Laughing the same carefree way that they used to laugh together before Rome.

Nic could still hear Christopher’s voice, could see picture the stricken look on his face when he had shamefully confessed to Nic that somehow he Christopher Wolfe, taciturn, prickly scholar, had fallen in love with all six of the children. And Nic would never forget the answering twinge in his heart when he, Captain Niccolo Santi had allowed himself to wonder if maybe he and Chris would end up with a big family after all.

Present day Nic looked over at the large boy sleeping peacefully between him and Christopher. Blond haired, blue eyed, German. Nothing like either of them in complexion or size, with not a single drop of shared blood between them. Then Nic glanced down at the way Thomas had grasped hold of Christopher’s hand, trustingly, seeking the comfort that somehow only a father could provide. And Nic saw the way Chris was cradling that hand safely, securely, and firmly between his own. And the way that despite what must have been excruciating pain in his still-healing fingers, Chris hadn’t let go all night long.

Nic smiled, reaching out to brush the hair off of Thomas’s forehead, his fingers lingering on the soft skin, his eyes seeking out any remaining lines of pain that a sound sleep had not been able to erase. 

He yawned, it was past time for him to return to sleep too. Staying up all night fretting about the two men in his bed would not help him in the morning. Besides, tomorrow he had agreed to meet Dario at that bar that Glain liked to frequent, and he had a feeling that he would need all the rest he could get in order to survive the night.

But then again, Nic drank in one last look at Chris and Thomas sleeping soundly beside him before he let his eyes drift shut. Yes, Nic didn’t like children too much anyway.


End file.
